


pulled apart at the seams

by kirargent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, First Kiss, Post-Season 5A, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia swallows, her throat tight. It's dark in the motel room, the world made of shadows and gloom and dark corners, but she can smell, hear, and feel Kira just in front of her so clearly that the darkness doesn't matter. She's so aware of her that it hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pulled apart at the seams

**Author's Note:**

> for [teen wolf femslash fic rec's writing week](http://kirargent.tumblr.com/post/129892495431/twfemslashficrec-twfemslashficrec-is-hosting-a): day 7 | bed sharing  
> &  
> [my teen wolf femslash bingo card](http://kirargent.tumblr.com/post/125020014916/btw-heres-my-tw-femslash-bingo-card-i-have-some) "I'm sorry" square

Malia's toes feel frozen.

In the year plus she's spent back in human form, she's adjusted to her lack of fur coat: she's not cold all the time anymore, not like when she first shifted back. But it's nighttime in the California desert and she and Kira spent the better portion of the evening outdoors, and now the pilly motel sheets aren't proving warm enough for Malia's comfort.

Kira is _right there_ , she thinks. They didn't check-in in advance, got stuck with the one-bed room left available, so Kira is a foot away at most, skin temptingly warm and body probably soft with exhaustion. It'd be easy to tug her closer; she's light-weight, and Malia's strong enough that Kira's weight wouldn't matter, anyway.

Except that it's not easy, because Malia's been human long enough to know that there's more than just a foot of mattress between them: there's also the _what are we to each other?_ tension that's been building over the last months; and the current fucked up-ness with Kira's kitsune powers; and the threat of the Desert Wolf looming over both their heads; and the frustrated silence that filled Kira's Prius during the drive to the motel. There's the fact that Malia can hear Kira's heart beating way too fast, and she doesn't know if it's because she's angry, or scared—or if it's pounding for the same reason it does whenever Malia sits a little too close to her, or brushes her hand while they're studying, or grins at her at a party and coaxes her into a dance.

Malia's own heart is sitting heavy in her anxious throat, half blocking her airway so that each breath feels difficult and shaky.

What if they don't figure this out? What if this is it, the challenge they don't overcome, the one that grips their pack by its edges, its loose strands, and pulls until they unravel? Either the Dread Doctors, or the Desert Wolf, or whatever's going on with Kira—what if this fall is the last one before things are irreparably different?

Malia swallows, her throat tight. It's dark in the motel room, the world made of shadows and gloom and dark corners, but she can smell, hear, and feel Kira just in front of her so clearly that the darkness doesn't matter. She's so aware of her that it hurts.

She takes a breath. “Kira?”

Her voice sounds as steady as it always does, though her insides feel like a windstorm.

She hears Kira shift, a little, but say nothing. She licks her lips.

“I'm sorry.”

The words are tiny and insufficient and stupid; Malia feels like she's bullshitting her way through a math test with only Lydia's banshee-scrambled notes for guidance. A lot of humanity makes her feel like that, but even more so when Kira's around.

Except usually with Kira it's not so _bad_. It's usually a nicer confusion. Warmer. Like she's excited for something even while she's terrified. This whole situation makes her feel sick and wrong and scared, because Kira is scared and hurting and Malia doesn't know what the fuck she can do about it.

Kira's voice, when she says, “For what?” is small and flat.

“This,” Malia says, like that explains anything. “All this crap. With my mom and with your powers and—that I can't do anything to help.”

She listens in the darkness. Kira's heart keeps up its rapid pattering.

“You can,” Kira mumbles. Her heart sputters out a few beats even faster, then settles back into its quick rhythm.

Malia is so focused on Kira's heart that she jumps when she feels Kira's hand, searching blindly behind her back. She bumps Malia's hip, finds her arm. Her fingers latch on—they're almost as cold as Malia's toes.

Malia holds her breath. She lets Kira guide her arm, pulling it across the empty space between them.

Kira's heart is hammering, and Malia listens curiously.

Cautious, moving slowly, she wiggles herself closer to Kira, arm falling over her waist, chest lining up with Kira's warm back. Kira's heart sounds like a rabbit's. The sick-wrongness fades in a rush; Malia is suddenly almost certain that Kira's heart is speeding because of Malia's proximity, not because of fear or anything else bad. She smiles, feeling sharpness press against the inside of her lips. She wills her fangs back.

“Kira?” she whispers.

Kira is silent. Her heart is thunder.

“Kira,” Malia says again, lips brushing soft hair. She feels the cotton of Kira's t-shirt under her hand; she searches out the hem, finds Kira's skin and traces wavy lines against her hip with her fingertips. Kira's pulse skitters.

“Why is your heart beating so hard?” Malia asks quietly, suppressing a vicious grin.

“I—” Kira stops, breathes. Excitement bubbles in the pit of Malia's stomach, warm and playful. “Why do you think?”

“That's a cop-out,” Malia says. She pinches Kira's midriff lightly, feels Kira jump, and grins.

Kira's breaths are quick.

On impulse, Malia curls her legs, wedges her icy toes between Kira's warm calves. Kira yips, and Malia laughs, and then—she's on her back, all of a sudden.

Kira's on top of her, looking down with round eyes and an open mouth. Her features are painted in shades of shadow-blue, her lips a dull pink in the darkness. Her hands rest outside Malia's shoulders, her knees on either side of Malia's waist.

She looks about as surprised to be on top of Malia as Malia was to be flipped.

Malia smiles slowly. Blood tingling with the particular combination of terror and excitement that she's come to associate with Kira Yukimura, Malia ghosts her hands up Kira's legs to grip her lightly by the hips.

“Kira,” she says. “Why is your heart beating so hard?”

She gets to see Kira's skin darken from her collarbones up her neck, which is quite an enjoyable sight. Kira bites her lip. Ducks her head.

“Because I like you,” she mumbles. Her heart does a fascinating double-beat. “Happy now?”

Malia feels fangs against the inside of her mouth when she grins. Tensing her stomach and lifting Kira by the waist, she flips them in one fluid twirl, resting between Kira's loosely spread legs on the mattress. “Very,” she whispers. She sees Kira's eyes go wide before she swoops down to press their lips together, and a second later, she feels Kira smiling against her mouth.

They'll figure this out, she thinks, a ferocious determination surging in her veins. They have to.

**Author's Note:**

> [also on tumblr](http://kirargent.tumblr.com/post/131369669686/pulled-apart-at-the-seams-maliakira-1k-for)


End file.
